


And I Hitched Along

by fayevian



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - After College/University, Chaptered, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, San Francisco, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:55:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22869727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayevian/pseuds/fayevian
Summary: Ricky is feeling less and less fulfilled with a job that was supposed to be his dream. Meanwhile, Nini is desperately trying to chase hers. A chance encounter upends both of their lives. But is it enough to keep them in the City by the Bay?
Relationships: Ashlyn Caswell/Kourtney, E.J. Caswell/Nini Salazar-Roberts, Kourtney & Nini Salazar-Roberts, Ricky Bowen & Gina Porter, Ricky Bowen & Nini Salazar-Roberts, Ricky Bowen/Nini Salazar-Roberts, Seb Matthew-Smith/Carlos Rodriguez
Comments: 28
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, since writing one (1) oneshot, I’ve somehow been inspired to write a much longer multi-chapter fic. All the characters are aged up in this (21-24). Rated T at the moment but that might change, depending on if I can trust myself to write a het scene - jury is out for now. There will always be TWs at the beginning of each chapter if anything needs it (and if I need to edit to add any, please let me know!). There will be some swearing, consistent with the normal way adult friends talk to each other, but don’t read if that might feel offensive to you. Also, pretty much all entities/groups/places I'm writing about in this fic are real - I live in SF so I didn't have to look hard for inspiration.
> 
> This fic will switch between Nini and Ricky’s perspectives.
> 
> I also figured I would go all the way and make a playlist for this fic. Some of the songs have relevant lyrics, most are just songs that I was vibing out on while writing, so people might vibe out while reading idk. I will likely add songs that inspire me or are relevant to the chapters as this fic progresses: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0cznvdno7yK9lVt5UN0WQA?si=7YQc95v7RCabBl53Fp9fGQ
> 
> I’m really nervous to post this because its a big undertaking and I don’t want to disappoint, but here we go! Constructive criticism is welcome, I’m new to this fic writing thing. Don't have a beta for now, and dunno if I need one, but if someone feels up to it and wants to let me know!
> 
> Happy reading!

_It is 5:13 on Wednesday, May 20th, 2020. It is 5:13 and 30 seconds on Wednesday, May 20th, 2020. It is 5:14 on Wednesday, May 20th, 2020._

Ricky sighed. He really thought having a job after college would be a lot more exciting than waiting for a clock to tick to 5:30. So he could get on an overcrowded Muni train for 45 minutes. So he could go home and heat up some frozen meal in the microwave. So he could binge The Wire for the 3rd time in his life. So he could go to bed before 11 pm and wake up at 7:00 am and do it all over again.

Ricky thought back to his graduation, now just over a year ago, from Brown. On that day, as he marched across the stage, the world seemed full of promise. He was leaving Providence with a degree in public policy and a minor in urban studies, with a senior thesis that had landed him a job working in San Francisco of all places, and a zeal for changing the world. His position as a junior policy writer in the Substance Use Disorder System chapter of the San Francisco Department of Public Health seemed too good to be true when he first got the offer. It was his dream entry job into the work he felt so compelled to do. He could hardly believe he was actually going to write policy that would help people directly affected by substance use like - well, like he had been. Or was. Last he heard she was sober, but…that could change within hours, let alone a few weeks.

He pushed those thoughts from his mind as he pushed his chair out from his desk and gathered his things. SFDPH gave him a 7 minute window to clock out of work, which technically meant he could clock out at 5:23 and his timesheet would say 5:30. Ricky didn’t care enough about what his coworkers thought of him leaving 7 minutes early. He doubted they even noticed. 

As Ricky hustled down the steps of the Muni station to get to his train on time, he pondered what went wrong. Or not wrong, exactly. He supposed the “junior” in his title should have given him the hint that all he would really be doing was editing other people’s policies, few of which seemed actually beneficial for the City or the people living in it. The ones that did always ended up on the cutting room floor, or being struck down by the Board of Supervisors or Mayor. After a year of watching failure after failure, Ricky was burnt out. He humorlessly laughed to himself. Burnt out at 23? How the hell was anyone supposed to do this until 65? How had so many people wasted their lives behind a desk and were just okay with it?

Sulking, Ricky maneuvered around the backpacks stuck in his face by various tech bros who were too absorbed in whatever was playing in their AirPods to notice they were taking up way too much space. Eventually he got into a position to grab his own headphones and plug into his playlist specifically for days like today, transporting himself into the crescendoing and atmospheric songs that centered him the most.

* * *

“Red, I’m home!” Ricky called, slamming shut the metal gate outside their door and plopping down his backpack in a decidedly ungraceful heap.

His best friend and roommate, Big Red, looked up from his laptop and raised his eyebrows at Ricky, unamused.

“Bro, I feel like I say this every day, but our apartment is way too small for you to leave your backpack in front of the door like that. We have hooks for a reason.”

Ricky flopped onto the couch and reached across their coffee table/dining room table/work desk to grab a handful of whatever healthy shit Big Red was eating and popped it into his mouth. “Love you too Re- ew! Dried cranberries? Who are you?”

Red rolled his eyes. “Antioxidants, Ricky! They’re good for you!”

“So is leaving the house once in a while, but you work from home types don’t seem to do that much, huh?” Not that Ricky was jealous or anything that his insanely smart friend double majored in computer science and visual art and now designed beautiful websites for clients all over the country. Not that he was especially jealous that Red got to structure his time himself rather than around an outdated time clock.

Red squinted his eyes at Ricky. “If I could leave you on read in real life, I would. I’m actually working right now, unlike you, so if you could so kindly leave me alone that would be great.”

Ricky jumped up from the couch to walk into the small space they referred to as the kitchen, passing Red along the way and thoroughly messing up his hair in the process, which only elicited a deep sigh from his friend. Ricky and Red had been pretty much inseparable from the day they had been paired together in their freshman dorm assignment at Brown. They had seen each other through heartbreak, failed tests, an innumerable amount of drunk nights, and broken bone or two from some aggressive skating sessions. At this point they were pretty much brothers, so teasing each other was just par for the course.

As Ricky was heating up a frozen burrito in their microwave, Red picked up his phone and hummed to himself.

“Hey, Rick, you remember that guy I went to high school with, Carlos? He and his boyfriend are having some kind of event in their nice-ass house in Noe Valley. Listen to this: ‘You are invited to a Pop-up Art gallery this Saturday, 12-5, at our house. Bring visual art, crafts, instruments, or any kind of creativity to showcase. Refreshments will be provided. Please bring friends, anyone with any kind of talent is welcome!’ That sounds so cool! You wanna go with me?”

Ricky hemmed. “Uh, I might have plans on Saturday, I dunno…”

Red craned his neck to look at Ricky. “If those plans have anything to do with Netflix and Tinder, I’m calling Bro Veto right now.”

Ricky was silent. Those plans exactly had to do with Netflix and Tinder, and Bro Veto was a sacred bond. Shit.

“I guess I can bring my guitar…”

“Yes!” Red pumped his fist. “This is going to be so great, I can finally show off some of that work I did this spring. I’m gonna let Carlos know right now, so no backing out!”

Ricky chewed his burrito thoughtfully, swallowing around the parts that were still kind of frozen but that he was too lazy to do anything about. He supposed an art show couldn’t be that bad. It had the potential to be super pretentious, but he liked Carlos well enough, and Red would be there. And he had been working on some songs that he could share. At the very least, it would break up the monotony of his work-home-work-home life. The more he thought about it, the more fun it sounded.

Ricky dropped his used plate in the sink, not bothering to wash it, and stepped into his closet-sized room, grabbing his guitar from under the bed. Tonight, rather than Netflix, he committed to working on the chord progression for one of his songs that he couldn’t quite get down yet. As his fingers nimbly worked their way up and down the frets, he let his mind wander, transporting him far away from his little in-law flat in San Francisco, his boring job, and the increasingly prevalent feeling that he was wasting his youth. Just for a moment, all that mattered was the music.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some more world-building. We will get to the meaty stuff soon!

Nini rested her head on the dirty window of the BART car she was riding into the city. She was exhausted - the kind of tired you could feel in your bones, that made your head heavy and your eyes dry. But she didn’t really have a choice to stay home today - she worked at the boutique from 9-2, at Young Performers from 3-5, and was supposed to walk Rascal at 5:30. Having three jobs was slowly killing Nini, but she managed on a diet of caffeine and optimism. Unfortunately, the optimism part was slowly leaking out her pores with each passing hour she spent on public transit.

But Nini was determined. Ever sine finishing her dramatics degree at USC a semester early, she had been juggling multiple part-time positions, taking trains and buses from Oakland to San Francisco in the hopes that one day her head-shots would land her an audition, and her audition would land her a role. The theater scene in San Francisco was exactly what she was looking for - edgy, fresh, new. She had tired of L.A. and its flashy nothingness, the roles that went to washed up Disney stars and B-list celebrities in the hopes that tourists and people looking for autographs would actually buy tickets.

But San Francisco? There was something raw about the theater scene. People weren’t trying to get on Billboards, or have their names in flashing lights. They were trying to create art, to reach into people and shake them awake. That was all Nini ever wanted to do with her acting. 

But of course, breaking into a scene as insular and specific as San Francisco’s wasn’t easy. Despite being a cultural behemoth, the City was incredibly small. Once she had that break, that one role that cemented her as deserving of a real shot, she knew she would be able to make it work as an actor. Until then, though, the only way she could afford to stay in the Bay Area was by living in Oakland and commuting into San Francisco to work odd jobs.

Nini hopped off Bart, paying the fair - shoot, only $5 left on her Clipper Card, she would have to add more to get home - and took the escalator steps two-by-two. She rounded the corner and spotted her bus just about to pull away. Nini sprinted to the stop, ignoring the guys wolf-whistling at her as they loitered around the station. Luckily, the bus driver caught her eye and seemed sympathetic, opening up his doors so she could get on, panting heavily.

“Tha-a-nk yo-ou” she huffed out, clutching her knees. The driver just nodded.

* * *

The boutique Nini worked at was everything she didn’t like about San Francisco. It seemed to be made specifically for relatives of the rich 30-somethings who moved to Noe Valley to have children. There were “handmade” soaps from Petaluma, insanely expensive olive oil from Sonoma, sterling silver necklaces with little cable cars on them - that kind of stuff. Of course, no artists from the East Bay; her home would be scary to anyone visiting Noe Valley. But, it was a job, and it paid slightly more than minimum wage, so she did her best to be upbeat and helpful to anyone who stopped in.

She heard the bell above the door tinkle and gathered her acting skills to wow another customer.

“Hi!” she said brightly, “Welcome to - oh, hi E.J.”

“What, no warm welcome for me?” He chuckled, trying to lean across the glass counter to steal a kiss.

Nini pulled back. “E.J.! Don’t get me fired, c'mon”

EJ pulled a face. “Nina, getting fired from this dump would be the best thing for you. Maybe then you could get an actual job.”

Nini frowned. “E.J., any job that pays you is an actual job, let’s not be elitist. Also, you know these jobs are just what I’m doing until I get a part. At least pretend to be supportive.”

EJ smiled his Hollister smile - the one Nini thought was placating, but could also be genuine. It was hard to tell with E.J. “Of course Nina. You’re going to be a star.”

“Mhm. I thought you said you were going to the gym this morning and then into work?”

“Yeah,” E.J. said, “I just wanted to stop by to see you first. Kiss?”

Nini looked around, praying her managers didn’t have a secret camera set up somewhere, and popped over the counter to give him a quick peck. “See you later?”

“Yeah, definitely. Bye Nini!” and with that he was gone. 

Nini smiled as he left. She had met E.J. in this boutique, actually. He spotted her through the window and had come in every shift she had for nearly a week, flirting shamelessly until she had agreed to go out with him. E.J. worked at some very technical start up that Nini didn’t understand at all. It was supposed to “disrupt the world of cryptocurrency” ... or something. 

EJ was nice to her, and treated her to things she couldn’t afford, as much as she tried to protest. He sometimes brought flowers into the boutique, or took her out to dinner. He cared about her, and in the past 5 months she hadn’t exactly made any friends besides him, so it was nice to feel wanted. 

Nini served out the rest of her shift in boredom, and then once again sprinted to catch a bus to her next job. This job she actually enjoyed since it was theater-adjacent. She wasn’t really a teacher - mostly she just wrangled the younger ones and reminded the older ones to get off their phones. But still, she got to watch kids just like she had been learn how magical acting and singing and just being alive on the stag could be.

She felt her own phone buzz in her jacket pocket and pulled it out, checking the cross streets to make sure she wouldn’t miss her stop before unlocking it.

_Hey Nina! It’s Seb from USC - we had Gender and Theater together and were paired for our final project? I was talking to Ashley and she said you moved up to SF recently!_  
  
 _Of course I remember you! Do you live in the Bay as well?_

_Yeah! I wanted to reach out and invite you to a get together I’m having this Saturday with my boyfriend. It’s an art pop-up. We’re having a bunch of people coming over to bring their work. Mostly visual and craft but also music/writing/whatever. I thought you might want to attend, I remember you did some oil pastel stuff in college?_

_That sounds amazing! What time? Where?_

_My house in Noe Valley! 12-5._   
  
_Perfect!!! I work in Noe until 2, so I would be late._

_No worries, it’s pretty come and go. And please bring anyone/as many people you want, we would love a full house and have a lot of space for the art._

_Yay, I’m so excited! I’ll be there!_

Excited was an understatement. This was probably the most thrilling thing that had happened to Nini since moving to the Bay. She loved art, she loved community, and she really wanted to meet people outside of her jobs. She hadn’t done pastel in a while but was pretty sure they were somewhere in her room.

Nini looked up. Oh shit, she had actually missed her stop. She hopped off on the next one and power walked to the community theater where Young Performers was held, her head filled with ideas for the gallery.

Later, Nini shivered on the bench she was sitting on in the Presidio as the bulldog she was walking, Rascal, sniffed stuff and peed on stuff and generally did what dogs do. She pulled out her phone.

_Ejjjjj please please would you go to this art pop up thing on sat? someone I know from college is doing it and I rly want to go but I don’t want to go alone since I won’t know anyone._

_I dunno Nina, you know I don’t really like art…_

_do this for me? didnt you say your cousin once invited you to one of her poetry readings but you didnt go? why dont you invite her too? I want to meet her and I think it would be nice of you. please say yes??_

_Ok fine. I’ll text Ash and see if she wants to go._

_thank you so much! I owe you!_   
  
_Yeah, you do ;)_

Exhausted as she was, Nini couldn’t wait to take the hour and a half ride home to get out her pastels and old work as see what she wanted to bring. She was excited that she could finally invite E.J. to something, excited to meet his cousin who seemed super cool, and most of all excited to finally do something that would test her creative ability. Who knew, maybe she would even meet someone who had ties to San Francisco theater. She could just sense it - it was the start of something new.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for brief mentions of alcohol

_Tap tap tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap tap._

“Oh my god Ricky, I’m going to strangle you. PLEASE stop.”

Ricky quieted his fingers on his guitar case. Ricky and Big Red were on the bus headed to the art show, and Ricky was surprisingly nervous. He hadn’t sung for people besides Red for - god, maybe 3 years? Junior and senior year wrecked him academically, and the stuff with his mom took up all the free time he might have had anyway. And of course, there wasn’t exactly anything inspiring about driving around town looking for her. It felt like all his creativity had been sucked into her black hole. He hadn’t even started writing again until this year, after the distance had slowly started to mend him. 

It also wasn’t only the songs. The idea of the party generally had started to stress him out. In high school, small talk was class schedules and teachers and homework. In college, small talk was majors and professors and homework. In adulthood, small talk is pretty work and only work. Ricky really didn’t want to talk about his job. People had so many differing opinions on his industry, and after a drink or two their tongues were loose enough to share them. Every time someone told him what he was doing was pointless, or wrinkled their nose as he tried desperately to explain why what he did was meaningful without getting into his personal life, it chipped another piece off his heart. He already felt so cracked and fragile - he couldn't bare to fracture more under the pitying gazes of people who didn't understand and didn't want to.

“Sorry.” Ricky muttered. 

Red looked at him sympathetically. “No one is going to force you to play if you don’t want to, Ricky. This isn’t any kind of audition, and your songs are great. Just feel it out, yeah?”

Ricky nodded, but didn’t reply. Automatically his drumming started up again. Tap tap tap tap tap. Red subtly put his headphones in, letting his friend have an outlet for the anxious energy bubbling inside him. 

Half an hour later, Ricky and Big Red struggled off the bus, Ricky with his guitar case hanging off one arm and one of Red's paintings under the other, Red with 3 more canvases.

Carlos' house was about 3 blocks away. Every minute or so, Red had to stop and readjust the canvases so they didn't fall, making the walk agonizingly slow. After the 5th time, Ricky rolled his eyes impatiently.

"Dude, I told you we should have taken an Uber."

"The canvases are too big, Ricky, we would have had to pay like $40 for an UberX!"

Red wasn't wrong, but still. The creeping march to the party was making Ricky's palms sweat. He just wanted to get in there and grab a beer and blend into the corners. Maybe then he could get through this afternoon without panicking.

Eventually, in increments of 50 feet, Ricky and Red were in front of the wrought iron gate belonging to Carlos and his partner. They could see a few folks milling about in the garage, which was attached to a courtyard that also included a rather ornate staircase leading up to the house. _Wow_ , Ricky thought, _Carlos' boyfriend must be loaded_. The garage seemed to be the main gallery, with paintings and sketches already hanging on the white plaster walls, despite the boys being about 15 minutes earlier than the official set-up time. 

Red rang the doorbell and a fresh-faced sandy-haired man emerged from the garage, juggling a bowl of pita chips and a jar of hummus from both hands into his left in order to open the gate. 

“Hi!” he said brightly. “I’m Sebastian, Seb. I assume you two must know Carlos? My boyfriend?” 

“Yeah, he and I went to high school together,” Red said, turning toward Ricky. “This is Ricky, my roommate.” 

“Well, it’s great to meet you both! I’d shake your hands, but it looks like we all have ours full. Let me put down these chips and I’ll help you hang these canvases.”

Ricky took in the gallery space as he waited for Seb to come back. It was... nice. It was really nice. The room wasn’t a rectangle, more like a square with multiple sections radiating out from the middle. While it frankly seemed like a stupid design for a garage, it was perfect for a gallery. Carlos and Seb clearly had a vision in mind, grouping like colors together - some abstract looking flowers (or trees?) in watercolor next to a stylized oil painting of a small bird. Ink drawings next to charcoal next to pencil sketches. It was cool. 

Ricky suddenly realized he had no words to describe art except for cool. _Great_ , he thought, _there goes the only other thing I can make small talk about_. _Besides pita chips, I guess._ Seb came back with mounting hooks and started working with Red to suspend the pieces. Ricky hung back, fondly watching the two people who clearly knew a ton more about art than he did revel in the fact they were in their element. 

Seb looked over his shoulder. “Ricky, was it?” Ricky nodded. “Would you like to put up your pieces?” 

Ricky rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I. Uh. I don’t really do art like that. I have my guitar?”

Seb smiled. “That’s great! One of Carlos’ coworkers is bringing a keyboard, so we’ll definitely set up a time and place for music or a jam session or whatever you want.”

Ricky returned his smile hesitantly. Seb seemed really sweet. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad after all. 

“Red! You made it!”

Carlos swept into the garage, giving Big Red a warm hug before waving at Ricky. “Hi, hun, nice to see you again! I see you both met Sebby,” Carlos said, snuggling up to his boyfriend. 

“Yeah! Seb was just telling me about his job, which sounds amazing. I wish I could spend all day painting and being creative like that and get paid for it.”

Seb laughed, a tinkling little giggle that immediately endeared Ricky. He had only met Carlos a handful of times, but the pair seemed so well suited to each other. A feeling washed over Ricky, one he couldn't quite identify. Wistful?

He tuned back in to the conversation going on in front of him. "...but clients can be so demanding! They give you a brief, you go to paint the mural, and then halfway through they totally switch it up on you. Sometimes it's nice to just do your own thing regardless of what some big shot at Twitter wants you to do. That's why Carlos and I wanted to have this show, y'know? To let everyone express themselves in a judgement-free space without all the pomp and circumstance of a 'real' gallery." Seb turned to his partner. "Love, would you help me finish putting up Big Red's pieces? I want to make sure all the snacks and drinks are set up, and it looks like Anna just got here with her sculpture, so we'll need a space for that, too."

Ricky dropped his guitar in the corner of the room, striding over to grab the door and help a struggling girl bring some sort of abstract, twisting metal thing into the garage. If he couldn't provide real art, he was determined to help set up the space so everyone else could enjoy it.

* * *

The party was well underway by 2pm. Two ciders deep, Ricky was feeling slightly buzzed and really good. He loved this. Seb was right when he said it was a "judgement-free zone" or whatever. Folks were milling about the gallery, or out in the backyard eating and creating with art supplies that Carlos had set up, but none of them were commenting pretentiously on the art. It seemed everyone had preemptively decided to follow the old adage, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." Pretty much everyone had something nice to say. Red was beaming with all the attention his paintings were getting. The Van Gogh inspired Bay Bridge piece was especially praised. Ricky was thrilled that his friend was being recognized for his talent outside of website building.

The guitar, however, stayed firmly planted in the corner of the room. Ricky didn't think his playing would match up with the immense talent on the walls. He also didn't want to be the guy playing background music while people talked over him. It would feel like a cheap imitation of an open mic night - at least those people were purportedly there for the music. Everyone here was not.

Ricky ambled around the room, stopping at some sort of paper maché something. He pretended to know what it meant as he sipped his cider. 

“This is cool but I’m gonna be honest, I have no idea what it means.” a voice said next to him. 

Ricky quickly turned his head to see a red-headed girl with two little buns on her head. They looked like Mickey Mouse ears, but made of hair, and added to the overalls and brightly colored shirt she looked simultaneously 7 and 20. 

Her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh shit! I’m sorry, is this yours?!”

Ricky laughed. “No, no, I’m not really any kind of artist. I’m here with my friend,” he said, pointing to Red, “who is some kind of artist.”

The girl glanced at Big Red's work and let out a low whistle. “Damn, yeah, that is some kind of artist. I’m Ashlyn, by the way.” She stuck her hand out and Ricky shook it. 

“Ricky. So, uh, how are you connected to Carlos and Seb?”

Ashlyn pulled a face. “By several degrees. The girl my cousin is dating went to college with. One of them? And she’s not even here yet. But my girlfriend and I went to school in the East Bay and my cousin and I grew up in Marin so we figured it was a good way to meet people in the City.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of why I’m here too. That and my roommate said I wasn’t allowed to spend another Saturday binging Netflix and swiping on Tinder.”

“Girls or boys?” Ashlyn questioned. 

“Girls?”

She sighed. “Boring, but I guess we can’t help what we’re into.”

Ricky laughed. He liked this girl, she was spunky.

“So you said you went to school here?”

“Yeah, Mills, no one is surprised. I met Kourt - that’s my girlfriend - there. I work in the City now at a creative writing non-profit. How about you?”

Ugh. This is why Ricky had been hiding in the corner. “Um, I work at the Department of Public Health. Policy stuff.”

Ashlyn smiled. “Sick, I hate talking to straight men in Tech.”

Ricky laughed again. The two talked for several more minutes as they strolled through the makeshift gallery, whispering together about some of the more abstract pieces they definitely didn’t understand. After circling the room, Ashlyn checked her phone.

“Kourt says the backyard is pretty cool. Wanna head out?”

“Sure, sounds great!”

Ashlyn confidently strode out the back door into the yard, Ricky trailing along behind her. For someone who basically didn’t know a single person at the event, she walked around like she owned the place. Ricky loved it. 

Stepping out of the door, Ricky’s eyes immediately rose skyward and he let out a little gasp. The Japanese Cherry that towered overhead was fully in bloom, dropping soft petals like snow as it lightly swayed in the breeze. He stared openly as he walked toward it, nearly bumping into a table set up with refreshments that had all been contaminated with tiny petals. Ricky smiled as he grabbed a pita chip and dipped it into the hummus, deciding against brushing the bits of flower off of the snack. What was the thing Red said last week? Antioxidants? They were probably in petals too. Or something like that - Ricky was just buzzed enough to not question it. 

He parked himself under the tree, staring up into the soft pink arches, letting the petals caress his face. _No offense to Big Red_ , he thought, _but I think this is my favorite art of all._

Ricky let his body fully relax for the first time that day...maybe for the first time in a long time. The stress of work, the stress of feeling purposeless, the stress of attempting to fix a broken system in a desperate bid to fix his broken family, all melted away as he sank into the roots. His mom would love this. He wished she was here to see it, in a capacity where she could actually enjoy it.

He sat there for a moment, or twelve - time moves differently after cider - just savoring the fact that he was doing something magical in a city that had started to loose its gleam.

"Wow." He heard a high, clear voice directed toward him, "That looks pretty perfect."

He glanced down from the branches, and locked eyes with the most beautiful girl in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: Mills is an all girls college in the Bay that's more or less known for being Lesbian Central. A gift to this earth.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me posting this while ignoring all my other responsibilities....
> 
> Sorry this took so long! It was my birthday last week so I kinda went out a bunch rather than writing. I usually only write on the bus or in bed but I assure you that the vast majority of my days are like that. Anyway, enjoy!

_Only 30 more minutes_ , she thought, _until the party of the century_.

Nini laughed to herself at her dramatics. She had up-played the art show in her mind and she hoped it didn’t disappoint. But she really was that excited - this was her first creative event in San Francisco, and it would be totally worth the excitement if she just met one person to be friends with. She looked longingly the large canvas bag she had hidden behind the boutique counter. It held the pastel sketch series she had done over the past week in her very limited free time. They were all views from the window of the BART train on her way too and from work. She took pictures and then worked off the pixels on her phone, blending late into the night. She was proud of them. Riding to and from the City had been a major part of her life in the past few months, and she hoped to one day look back on her struggle with a mix of nostalgia and gratitude. She tried to capture that in the soft curves of the train against the sharp angles of West Oakland.

The little bell above the door dinged as E.J. swept into the room. Nini sighed internally. He already looked annoyed and she really didn’t want to spend the whole party making sure he was having a good time.

“Ninaaa-“ He began to whine, but she cut him off.

“One hour. Give me one hour and if it sucks we can go. Your cousin is already there, it would be super awkward if you didn’t show up. Please, E.J. Please”

E.J. pursed his lips. “Okay. One hour.”

He wandered around the store, aimlessly picking up tchotchkes until Nini’s coworker Natalie showed up to relieve Nini from her duties as the minder of expensive junk.

“Thanks, Nat! Have a good shift!” Nini yelled, grabbing her bag and practically pulling E.J.’s arm off in her rush to get out of the door.

Seb’s house was only a few blocks away, and the two got there quickly since Nini was basically running. Nini rang the doorbell as E.J. peered into the ornate courtyard, impressed.

“How do you know these guys again? Do you they would be interested in investing?”

Nini latched onto the idea, wanting any reason to stay at the event longer. “Yes, totally! I bet there’s a ton of people here who want to hear about your app idea.”

E.J. brightened considerably as a random party-goer pulled open the gate and let them into the house. The garage was a few steps away - Nini took it in one. As she entered the space, she stopped dead and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

It was _perfect_. It was exactly what she had hoped for. All kinds of art blanketed the walls, in styles ranging from post-modernism to pop to impressionism. There were photo-realistic sketches, charcoal figures, mixed media prints. The range was incredible and Nini’s heart swelled with the realization that her pieces would soon be hanging with all the other compositions.

“Nini!” A voice cried as she was nearly bowled over from behind. She angled her neck to see a very happy Seb, well on his way to being a very drunk Seb.

She laughed and turned around in his arms to give him a proper hug.

“Hi, Seb! It’s so good to see you! I love this place so much already.”

Seb smiled and swayed with her. “Me toooo, Nini. Did you bring your art, I wanna see your art, I love your art, let’s hang your art!”

Nini laughed again, totally smitten with the drunk man who was now making grabby hands at her portfolio.

“Oh, babe, let me do that...and maybe let's take a little break on the spritzers too.” A darker-haired guy came up behind Seb and gently pried his arms off Nini, taking her folder in the process.

“Nini, I presume? Sort of hard not to hear Seb yelling across the garage.” He smiled kindly.

“Ha, yeah uh, Nina or Nini is fine. The boyfriend, I presume?” she parroted back.

“Carlos,” he extended his hand toward her. “You want to go put these up with me? Seb is...” he searched around the room, the drunk man having slipped away during their short conversation, “...indisposed.”

She returned his handshake before Carlos opened her portfolio and appraised the pastels in it. Suddenly, Nini felt a wave of anxiety. What if he hated them? What if they weren’t good enough to go up on the walls with all the other amazing pieces? What if she had overestimated how good they were? What if-

“These are sick,” he said simply. “I love them. I’m gonna hang them on the south wall with the charcoal, that good with you hun?”

Nini nodded dumbly, not trusting her voice to sound normal as she let her heart rate stabilize. _You really need to chill out, girl. It’s just a party, not an audition for the rest of your life._

It really did feel like an audition though. The nerves, the nausea, the tingling thrill up her spine - she felt on display, attempting to play the part of “Cool Girl Who You Definitely Want To Be Friends With.” The thought was so cheesy she inadvertently cringed, but she was really hoping to land the part.

“Nini,” Carlos called, “this work for you?” She walked over to where he was pointing, having hung the pieces on tiny clothespins fashioned to twine strung up along the walls.

“It looks great, Carlos. Are you a secret interior designer or something?”

Carlos let out a loud laugh. “I would sure hope it’s not a secret! I wouldn’t get any clients otherwise.”

Nini broke eye contact, embarrassed. “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be, that was hilarious. What do you do?”

Oh great, this conversation. “Uhhh.. I’m working at a kids theater program and some other places as I take auditions.”

“That’s great!” Carlos shot her a sweet smile. Nini didn’t think he meant it to seem patronizing, but she took it as such. Still, she smiled back. What was her acting degree for if not small talk at parties?

They continued to chat, Nini learning that Carlos and Seb had met in a figure drawing class just two weeks after Carlos had moved to San Francisco. They moved in together less than a year later. Leave it to Seb to live out a Wattpad fic, Nini thought, jealous. She supposed it was a similar meet-cute to how she met E.J. ...speaking of, where was he?

She searched around the room until she caught him animatedly chatting with a couple of guys who she could clock a mile away as Tech Bros. _Good_ , she thought, _we’re going to stay longer than an hour_. She walked up to the small group, catching E.J.’s eye and signaling him to come to her. He stepped away and pulled her off to the side so the other men couldn't hear his excited whispers

“Nini, they’re loving my pitch!”

She smiled. “That’s so great! I just want to know if Ashlyn texted you, I want to go meet her and her girlfriend.”

“Oh yeah, she’s outside, I think” he said distractedly, angling his body back toward the guys he was talking to before. Nini just squeezed his hand and let him go, deciding she could figure out who Ashlyn was well enough since she had seen pictures of E.J.’s cousin on his Insta.

Weaving her way around the teeming space, Nini ducked into the garden. As she had expected, it was just as beautiful as the rest of their home. It was also a lot more crowded than she had expected, assuming most the guests were in the garage. Seb has been here not even two years and he had amassed this many friends? How?

“Girl, I am going to lose it if that is Nini Salazar-Roberts.”

Nini whirled around at the familiar voice. “Kourt?!”

Kourtney beamed as she ran toward Nini, nearly knocking the shorter girl over in a big bear hug.

“How did you -“

“When did you-“

“Who are you-“

The girls laughed, excited overlapping chatter getting them nowhere. Kourtney pulled back and put a hand to Nini’s mouth, effectively muffling her voice.

“Me first! ‘Cause you know you have a lot of explaining to do. Maybe start with why the hell you’re in San Francisco right now when I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be at USC finishing a theater degree?” Kourtney raised a well groomed eyebrow, her make-up impeccable as always.

“I graduated a semester early!” Nini shrugged her shoulders. “You know me, all those AP classes kinda paid off. Okay, my turn! Wasn’t your plan to graduate from Mills last spring and head to New York?”

Kourtney grimaced. “Yeah, sort of. Nana got sick so I took a year off to care for her. I’m finishing my degree up now, but...” she trailed off for a moment. “I have a reason to stay in the Bay now, so I don’t know about New York anymore.”

Nini cocked her head to the side, puzzled. “But Kourt, New York has been your dream since we were little, yeah? What could possibly keep you here?”

Kourtney smiled. “More like who,” she explained, taking a couple of steps backward to grab a woman stuffing pita chips in her mouth by the back of her overalls and tug her forward. “Nini, I’d like you to meet-“

“Ashlyn?!”

A beat.

“Nina?”

Kourtney looked wildly between the two of them. “Nu-uh, hold up, you two know each other?”

Nini was dumbfounded, mutely staring at the pair, until Ashlyn filled the silence.

“Nina is with my cousin E.J., Kourt. She’s who invited us here.”

“No way.” Kourtney shook her head, amazed.

Ashlyn squinted at the both of them. “Did ya'll date or something?”

Finally, Nini was snapped out of her stupor and piped up. “Oh my god, no. We went to theater sleep-away camp together! From like ages 10-16 we were inseparable every summer. I guess we kind of lost touch a couple years ago.”

“Damn,” Ashlyn mused. “Kourt at sleep-away camp? Baby, how come every time I say we should go camping you say humankind didn’t invent houses to willingly sleep outside?”

Kourtney sniffed haughtily. “Uh, camp had cabins, with plumbing and electricity and someone else cooking for you. Besides, that is so not the point of this moment. Nini is here! In front of me! Dating your cousin! It’s a literal miracle! And don’t get all English major on me, I’m going to use literal anyway I goddamn please.”

Ashlyn threw her hands up. “Well, I won’t spoil your fun then with my knowledge of English grammatical structures then.” Kourtney looked like she was going to apologize but Ashlyn cut her off with a kiss. “I’m kidding, baby, go catch up with your friend. I want to try all the different snacks anyway.”

“Okay, love you!” Ashlyn just flashed her girlfriend the piece sign and Kourtney rolled her eyes fondly, turning back to Nini. “We have literally so much to talk about girl, I need to know every reason why you’re in the Bay. I need to-“

A buzz cut Kourtney off. She peeked down at her phone and her whole demeanor changed, her face clouding over and worry seeping out of her pores.

“Nini, it’s my Nana’s home, I need to take this.”

Nini rushed to reassure her old friend. “Of course, I’ll still be here!”

Kourtney strode off with her phone to her ear, leaving Nini reeling in the wake of the multitude of coincidences. She hoped Kourt’s grandma was alright, but was sort of glad for the break in conversation. She needed to process this newfound information. How could it possibly be real that her childhood friend was partners with the cousin of the man she was dating? Yet here was the proof. _I can’t wait to call my moms_ , Nini thought. _They’re going to get such a kick out of this_. Nini’s moms were big believers in fate.

A little lost after the overwhelming turn of events, Nini searched around for some sort of anchor to keep her grounded. Roving her eyes around the backyard, they landed on a boy nestled between the roots of the flowering tree that took up most of the garden. His soft brown curls were dusted with petals, and his baby blue button down was the same light hue as the sky. The effect of the fallen flowers on his shirt mirrored the branches against the sky above his head. It looked like a painting.

“Wow,” Nini breathed. “That looks pretty perfect.”

The boys eyelids snapped open, and they locked eyes. He is really cute, Nini thought, not being able to help herself from quickly checking out the way his lanky body spread out along the roots in a way that shouldn’t have made him look as good as he did. For art, of course. No other reason. He made a move to get up.

“No!” She commanded. He froze. “Don’t move, I’m going to get my pastels.”

The boy looked shell shocked. “O-okay?” he stuttered.

Nini made an abrupt u-turn and retreated back into the garage. She took a beeline towards her bag, which held her sketchbook and pastels. Grabbing the materials, Nini spared a glance at E.J. on the way out, who was still deep in conversation. She was so excited to tell him what had just happened with his cousin - double dates had never sounded so appealing. But she didn’t want to interrupt his app pitch thing. He was working hard on it, whatever it was. He deserved the space to do so.

Nini returned to the boy and the tree. He hadn’t moved a muscle, true to his word, but his demeanor had shifted from relaxed to tense. Nini could see the poor guy was confused. She dropped down on her heels a foot or so from him, placing her sketchbook and her pastels on her lap.

“Sorry, that was sort of aggressive. I’m Nina. Or, uh, some people here call me Nini.”

“Ricky,” the boy said, maintaining eye contact for a moment before glancing shyly down in his lap.

Nini pressed on despite how uncomfortable he looked. “When I saw you sitting there I couldn’t not draw you. Is that okay?”

The boy nodded mutely. Nini hoped he genuinely meant it and wasn't answering in the affirmative because he was too afraid to say no. She also kind of didn't care, though. The picture before her needed to be captured, and it was an art party after all. So Nini got to work. After a few moments, she could see his muscles relaxing slightly. She decided to let the silence linger, since he seemed pretty shy and she didn’t want to scare him into tensing up again.

She looked up periodically as she sketched and blended her pastels. Every time she raised her head she caught Ricky staring at her, like he was studying her. It was odd, but she figured she was doing the same to him, so she didn’t comment on it.

Nini put the butt of her blending stick in her mouth, squinting a bit at the impression taking shape under here deft fingers. The flecks of baby pink petals in Ricky’s hair were the most important part of the piece, and she wanted to overemphasize how they nestled into his soft curls. He looked like a woodland elf, but the way his muscles were defined under his shirt was decidedly masculine.

It only took Nini about 20 minutes of deep concentration to finish. She preferred sketchy, rough outlines and imperfect blends to polished, finished work. She used to be a stickler for detail, but had realized that her “perfect” work was often one dimensional. She liked the idea of someone else looking at her pieces and filling in the blanks, co-creating the art in their minds. She craved the dynamics of community art in all forms.

She set down her pastels and crawled over to Ricky with her sketchbook in hand, perching on the roots next to him. “You want to see it?”

He nodded, so she angled the book toward him. “That’s....really cool.” He immediately winced, which Nini caught.

“Not an art major, I’m guessing?”

He smiled weakly. “How could you have possibly guessed?”

She hummed, appraising the boy before her. “So then what’s your motivation for coming to an art show?”

Ricky pointed to a ginger man perched on a stool under the overhang of the house’s upper deck. He was laughing with Carlos, but caught Ricky pointing and smiled broadly, waving.

“Boyfriend?” Nini mused.

“Best friend.” Ricky replied.

“It’s really sweet of you to support him like that.”

Ricky shrugged. “He’s supported me through a lot, so...” his voice petered out.

“I get it.” Nini spotted Kourtney walking back into the garden. She wasn’t crying and didn’t look particularly stressed, so Nini hoped that was a good sign.

“Speaking of supporting friends, I need to go talk to mine for a bit.” She haphazardly ripped the drawing out of her notebook and placed it in Ricky's hands, curling his fingers over the paper when he didn't immediately react. "You can have this, do whatever you want with it." He just stared, first at the drawing and then at her.

She stood and looked down at the boy. As he raised his head to return her gaze, some of the petals in his hair dislodged and drifted down to his cheeks, which he wiped away absentmindedly. There was no other word to describe it besides beautiful. Totally objectively, obviously.

“Find me in a bit, yeah? We have to get to know each other better.” As Nini turned heel, she heard Ricky gulp behind her.

 _Damn_ , she thought, _I really have to stop being so aggressiv_ e.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't love the ending but I wanted to get to Ricky's perspective so whatever. Hoping to update again soon!
> 
> Also, if you feel like commenting: Would you rather have longer chapters and less frequent updates? Or shorter chapters and more frequent? The longer ones would switch between Nini and Ricky within a chapter, just so it didn't get dull.


	5. Not an Update (sorry)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not an update!!! just a quick note

Hey y'all, just wanted to say that while the rest of the world is stuck at home I've somehow become an emergency responder for the COVID19 crisis (who knew that my first real job out of college, a simple data desk job, would turn into this......look at us, who would have thought, not me!!) so I work all the time and have no energy to write. Once I go back to my regular life, if we ever go back, the story will pick back up. I have it all planned out so this isn't a goodbye, just a see you after coronavirus.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I haven't died!! Yet!! It looks like we aren't "getting back to normal" anytime soon so I decided I better start doing the things I did before COVID19 or I will go crazy. I'm getting tested for Coronavirus soon (no symptoms but my city is doing it for all first responders) and I'm really nervous so I stress-wrote a chapter in between sewing masks for all my coworkers since we ran out of N-95s. Weird world we live in lmao.....anyway, enjoy!!
> 
> Also, general note, this chapter starts before the last one ended, so if you need a refresher on Nini's perspective, read the end of Chapter 4 again!

There was a girl drawing him. Ricky was in the backyard of a house in San Francisco and one of the cutest girls he’d ever seen had a rolled up piece of paper hanging out of her mouth and was intently staring at him while drawing him with a crayon. There was girl drawing him. Ricky felt like he was having an out of body experience, which was dramatic but. This was pretty much the opposite of his whole “blend in with the crowd” strategy he had come here with. Because there was a girl. Drawing him.

He realized he was openly staring at…Nina? Nini? but he couldn’t help it. Her deep brown hair was mostly tied back in a messy bun, but some of the strands had fallen loose and were softly framing her face. She was wearing a red sun dress and chunky beige cardigan, sleeves rolled up so it didn’t smudge her work. She wore gold earrings that looked like half of a human face, but like if that one famous guy who draws weird faces had made them. Picasso? He suddenly wished he knew everything about art so he had something he could talk to her about. She looked effortlessly chic in a way Ricky knew he could never emulate.

Nini put down her crayons and paper stick and scooted toward him, sketchbook dangling from her hand. Ricky was intensely curious and also anxious about seeing the work. No one had ever drawn him before, not even one of those caricature people at Disneyland. Those things were creepy and he refused to sit for one when he was a kid because he knew his parents would display it in the most embarrassing way possible. 

Nini positioned herself next to him, balancing on the roots next to his shoulder, so he had to look up at her in order to make eye contact. “You want to see it?” she questioned. 

Ricky nodded, a lump in his throat. The girl turned her sketchbook around in her hands and propped it up on her knees so Ricky could see the piece. 

It was nothing like he had expected, although had someone asked him what he expected moments ago he wouldn’t have been able to answer. Ricky could only describe it as the essence of himself. It was undeniably him - his curls, the way his neck sloped toward his shoulders, his ankles softly crossed. But it was only done in a couple of short, bold lines and strategic color placement. Little shocks of pink nestled in his hair, the folds of his shirt, gathered in his lap. The tree burst out from behind him and snaked from below him, creating the illusion that he was truly being cradled by the earth. It was amazing. 

“That’s...really cool.” he squeaked out. 

_Oh my god I did not just say that._

Nini smiled at him, her eyes crinkling in mirth and probably pity. “Not an art major, I’m guessing?”

_Stupid stupid stupid -_

“How could you have possibly guessed?” Ricky joked, trying to smile at her in a way that conveyed how sorry he was for being so ignorant. 

Nini looked him up and down, pursing her lips and making a little noise. “So what’s your motivation for coming to an art show?”

Several answers ran through Ricky’s mind. _My life feels meaningless and I’m trying everything at this point. I wanted to sing for someone again but now I’m too afraid. To meet someone like you.  
_

Instead, he pointed to Big Red, who caught his eye and waved back happily. 

Nini followed his hand and caught the little wave. “Boyfriend?”

“Best friend.” Although, Ricky supposed he had hung out with Red and pretty much Red alone since he moved here...and they did live together. So for all intents and purposes they were dating. He glanced up at her.

Nini’s eyes softened, and Ricky quickly broke eye contact. “That’s really sweet of you to support him like that,” she said softly. 

Ricky played with the hem of his shirt, suddenly feeling a bit emotional about all that Red had seen him through. It took a really special person to have lived with him throughout everything with his mom, and Red went above and beyond in picking up his slack around the house or getting class work and notes for Ricky when he was too preoccupied dealing with her. 

“He’s supported me through a lot, so...” he stopped talking, not wanting to continue down that path right now. 

Nini smiled at him. “I get it.” Her head swiveled a bit and her eyes landed on a woman in leopard print jeans walking into the backyard from the gallery space. “Speaking of supporting friends, I need to go talk to mine for a bit.” Nini pulled her sketchbook back into her lap and grabbed the corner of the work, ripping at it. Ricky almost cried out, thinking she was ripping it in half, before he realized she was just ripping it out of the notebook. Nini took the art and thrust it into Ricky’s hands. His hands stilled as he felt her smaller ones circle around his and squeeze. He looked down. What was she - oh. She was trying to get him to hold the paper. Duh. Of course.

Ricky lifted his head to watch her stand. She brushed off her pants as she stood, jutting her hip out a bit as they stared at one another. Ricky could feel petals falling out of his hair onto his face and subtly tried to wipe them away, hoping he didn’t look as dumb as he felt. Their eyes locked before she looked him up and down. It was a penetrating gaze - Ricky felt exposed in a way he never had before, like she could see into his soul. 

As she turned away from him, she called over her shoulder. “Find me in a bit, yeah? We have to get to know each other better.”

Ricky’s heart beat accelerated and he audibly sucked in a breath before immediately cursing himself for being so obvious. That... just happened.

Dazed, he looked down into his lap where the slightly crumpled paper hung from his loose grip. The grip that Nini had manipulated his hand into after he had apparently forgotten how to use his muscles. He wanted to smooth the paper out but he was too afraid to ruin the crayon stuff that was on it - it seemed to be made to smear, which didn’t make any sense to Ricky, but he wasn’t about to question a medium he didn’t understand. 

Ricky took a couple deep breaths, re-centering himself. Why was he so shaken up by this...by her? Was his life really so boring that something a little out of the ordinary, or a potential new friend, would affect him so profoundly? Ricky knew he wasn’t really telling himself the truth about why that encounter had set his heart racing and tied his tongue but he had perfected lying to himself so well that he didn’t feel the need to stop now. 

He zoned back into his surroundings to watch Ashlyn walk up to him, a beer in each hand. With a grunt, she plopped herself down next to him and wordlessly handed him an IPA, which he accepted gratefully, cracking the can and taking a swig before making a face. It wasn’t very Californian of him, but he kinda hated IPAs. They tasted like liquid Ritz crackers.

Ashlyn sipped her beer thoughtfully before speaking. “You checking out my girlfriend?”

Ricky hadn’t realized he had been staring at Nini laughing with her cheetah-pant friend. He quickly looked away from the pair before fully processing what Ashlyn had said.

He swiveled to stare at her. “Nini is your girlfriend?!” 

Ashlyn smirked. “No, but I just wanted to hear you confirm you were staring at her. Kourtney-” she pointed at cheetah-pants, “is my girlfriend.”

Ricky blushed, very much wishing the gray San Francisco weather hadn’t leeched the tan from his face since he knew it was highly obvious he was blushing. “I’m just curious about her. She drew this.” He thrust the paper at Ashlyn, almost relieved to have it out of his hands for a minute. 

“Yeah, I watched that whole moment happen.” Ashlyn studied the piece. “I know I just said I don’t know shit about art, but this is pretty wild for a stranger to draw.”

“What do you mean ‘wild’?” It certainly had been strange for Ricky, and bold in a way he definitely didn’t have the guts to ever pull off had the roles been reversed, but he didn’t follow Ashlyn. 

“She saw you, dude. Like this is your body, sure, but it’s not just that. It’s like...you.”

Ricky smiled. “How would you know? You’re a stranger too.”

Ashlyn scoffed as she handed back Ricky’s portrait. “I’ll have you know I am a Pisces and a very good judge of character. Plus I can just tell this stuff. It’s like a sixth sense.”

Ricky didn’t question his new friend, but he also didn’t really believe her. He changed the subject. 

“So you came here with her and your girlfriend?” He asked, his fingers playing with the rough edges of the paper nervously. 

“Ummm... no. I met Nina like-“ she checked her phone, “45 minutes ago. I didn’t even know she and Kourt knew each other but I guess they went to camp together as kids?”

“Woah, small world! How weird that you both ended up here.” Ricky took another sip of his beer and grimaced. Why was he still drinking this?

“Yeah, the weirdest part is that she actually invited us here, we just didn’t know who she was. Nina is dating my cousin E.J., who I actually haven’t seen yet but that’s some typical E.J. behavior so I’m not surprised.”

Oh. Ricky’s heart sank. He had known Nini for less time than it took to watch a vine compilation and yet he was disappointed she had a boyfriend. It made sense though - she was so confident, she probably attracted very cool and confident Bay Area people. 

“Oh, haha, cool.” Ricky did his best to sound nonchalant. Ashlyn side-eyed him. 

“To be honest,” she said out of the corner of her mouth, clearly not trying to attract attention, “he’s one of those straight men in tech I was talking about. I’ve known him my whole life and love him to death, but I don’t always like him, you know?”

As if on cue, a tall, dashingly handsome man strode out into the garden, coming up behind Nini and placing a hand on the small of her back. She instinctively leaned into him and smiled up at him. She’s probably a really good girlfriend, Ricky thought wistfully, before mentally slapping himself. What a ridiculous thing to think about someone he didn’t even know. 

Ricky watched Nini introduce the boyfriend to Kourtney, zeroing in on the way the brunette girl softly rubbed her thumb against the back of the mans hand. Glancing up from their hands, he realized the boyfriend seemed to be trying to get Nini to leave. Her reluctance was clearly written in her face as she gestured back to Kourtney. The man shrugged, kissed the top of her head, and strode off. 

“You should probably stop staring at her before she notices. Also, just as a heads up, strange men staring openly at women is generally frowned upon in polite society.” Ashlyn calmly sipped her beer. 

Ricky’s face went hot, blush blooming in his cheeks and down his neck. His eyes quickly dropped to his lap, where Ashlyn had placed the portrait, which just made him blush harder. 

“I was just spacing out, that’s all.” he lied unconvincingly. Ashlyn didn’t respond. 

He trained his eyes on a crack in the cement off to the side of his outstretched legs. Leave it to Ricky to offend the one person he may have actually became friends with. He always seemed to be pushing people away, upsetting them without even realizing it until it was too late. He would have a friend for a month or two before they started asking too many questions and he stopped answering their texts and made up excuses about outings. Eventually when he tried to reach out again, there was no one there to answer him. He didn’t mean to ghost, he just didn’t know how to let someone in without letting all of them in, and the thought of burdening anyone else with his problems was too much to bare.

Ricky blinked heavily, trying to clear his clouded vision without bringing attention to how he was feeling. A hand landed on his knee.

“Hey man, I didn’t mean anything by that, it’s okay.”

Ricky didn’t lift his eyes, but he didn’t want Ashlyn to feel bad, so he responded. “I’m sorry, I’m just not the best at meeting people. I get a little overwhelmed and tend to just…watch. I really didn’t mean to be creepy.”

Ashlyn squeezed his knee reassuringly. “I totally get it. If it makes you feel better, I watched Kourt for basically the entire semester in our Gender and Theater class before I finally worked up the nerve to say hi, and that was one hundred percent in a creepy way. Although I think I pretty convincingly played it off as staring at the clock, so I don’t think she noticed. Huh… KOURTNEY!”

Ricky jumped, careening backward into the tree and knocking his elbow on a root, cursing softly as a tingling sensation shot up his arm. He rubbed it, wincing, and turned to ask Ashlyn what the hell she was doing. Before he could say anything, though, Ashlyn was jumping up to meet her girlfriend, Nini trailing behind.

“Yell my name any louder and bet they’re gonna get a noise compliant.” Kourtney crossed her arms.

“Ugh, let the neighbors talk, this is way more important. Ricky and I wanted to know if you knew I was staring at you instead of the clock in college before we got together.”

“Babe,” Kourtney deadpanned. “You wear a watch.”

Ashlyn looked down at the smartwatch on her wrist, as if just noticing it. “Oh, yeah. Guess I’m not that slick.”

Kourtney smiled. “Not at all, but you’re cute, so I’ll forgive it.” She looked down. “I guess you’re Ricky?”

He nodded.

Kourtney gestured behind her. “This is -“

“Nini.” Ricky finished.

Kourtney raised an eyebrow and glanced back at Nini. “Ni-ni?” She asked, putting emphasis on the final syllable. “Interesting. I guess you’ve met then.”

Should Ricky not have called her Nini? Was he supposed to call her Nina? Hadn’t she said people here call her Nini? His heart rate began to rise as his mind flooded with self-doubt.

Nini smiled sweetly. “Ricky is my friend, he can call me Nini. I missed Nini anyway. Nina is boring. She works too much.”

Kourtney laughed. “Okay girl, whatever you say.” She turned back toward Ricky. “Nice to meet you, Ricky.”

Ashlyn thrust her hands into the air, wiggling them around in a please-help-me-up gesture. Kourtney gave a dramatic eye roll before hoisting her girlfriend up.

“Nini, where did my bore of a cousin run off to. I haven’t even seen him yet.”

Nini scrunched her eyebrows disapprovingly. “E.J. is not a bore! But, maybe a little aloof, considering he’s already left…” Ashlyn looked about to yell something, but Nini barreled on. “In order to keep talking about his business plan with some guys he met here! They wanted to take it to a bar in SoMa they said was more conducive to ‘linking and building.’” Nini used air quotes on the final phrase.

“Hm. I think I just threw up in my mouth.” Ashyln said. Ricky couldn’t agree more.

“Oh, stop, he’s just passionate, that’s all!” Nini defended. “It’s probably a really good idea!” Her features darkened and Ricky grew more alert. Was something wrong?

“Well, that’s San Francisco for you.” Confused, Ricky pulled his eyes away from Nini’s face and realized that he had been so trained on the girl he hadn’t noticed the whole world had darkened around them, fog rolling down the hills in the abrupt nature that it often did in the Bay. One minute the sun would be shining bright, the next you couldn't see 10 feet in front of you. He shivered.

“Hey,” Nini’s soft voice drifted down to him, and he turned to look at her. “I hear Sebby’s boyfriend's coworker is supposed to be playing an original composition on the balcony soon, and I’m also pretty sure there are blankets up there. You wanna come with?”

“Defin- I mean, um, yeah, sure, that would be great, yeah.” Ricky stumbled over his words and Nini laughed, extending a hand for him to grasp. He tentatively raised up his arm and her small fingers encircled his for the second time that afternoon, pulling him upwards. She held onto his hand long enough for Ricky to find a stability after standing for the first time in an hour, his legs protesting from the slightly awkward angle they had been forced into from the tree roots. She dropped his hand and Ricky immediately missed the contact. Face to face, he stood several inches taller than her, and now she was the one staring up at him. She smiled, her eyes crinkling as they gazed up at him, and then turned towards Kourtney, linking arms with her friend. 

“Shall we head up to the balcony?” Nini asked the group, very seriously.

“I think we shall.” Ashlyn responded, just as gravely, taking Nini’s other arm.

Ricky trailed behind the trio, not wanting to be the…fourth? - wheel on whatever tricycle they were. The metaphor was pretty bad but his brain was cloudy from the beer, probably. Definitely not from the brunette girl currently attempting to go up a narrow set of stairs side-by-side with two other people.

He felt a hand on his shoulder from behind, and turned to see Big Red’s face, flushed with alcohol and concern.

“You good, dude?”

Ricky managed a smile. “Yeah, yeah, just a little overwhelmed. Lots of new people, y’know.”

Red frowned. “Do you want to get out of here? We can grab my stuff and go whenever.”

Ricky glanced up at the balcony just as Nini glanced down at him. She waved and patted the seat next to her, holding up a blanket and mouthing, “for you!”

“I think I’m gonna stick it out, Red. Getting out of your comfort zone is good for you, right?”

“Uhhh…” Red snapped his fingers in front of Ricky’s face, causing the boy to jolt and rip his gaze from the balcony. “Has my best friend been replaced with a body double while I wasn’t looking? Ricky Bowen is the king of comfort zones.”

 _Uh, ouch_. “C’mon Red, no I’m not, I do new things all the time!”

Red narrowed his eyes. “Name three new things you’ve done since moving here. Your job doesn’t count.”

Ricky thought. “I tried Greek yogurt?”

“No, Ricky, three experiences.”

“Hey!” Ricky protested, “Greek yogurt is an experience! I experienced how bad it tasted and decided not to make that mistake again.”

Red laughed. “Look, man, I’m glad you’re having a good time, really. But you can let me know when you’re ready to go. I’ve always got your back, yeah?”

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe the conversation with Nini by the tree had primed him to feel a little sappy, but Ricky felt tears prick his eyes at those words. “Yeah, I know. I love you Red.”

Big Red laughed. “How many ciders have you had, lightweight? I love you, too.” Still chuckling, he walked back to the group of people he had been with before.

Ricky slowly began to take the stairs up to the balcony and the girl who had beckoned him there. He took a few calming breaths, wanting to seem cool and collected when he sat down next to Nini. If he could handle everything with his mom, moving across the country for a job, and eating Greek yogurt without vomiting, he could definitely handle sitting next to a beautiful young woman on a foggy balcony in the middle of San Francisco.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me, if you're still here! There's a lot of Coronavirus cases in the community I work in so I think it's only a matter of time before I get sick but I'm going to try to write as much as I can before that! Hopefully there will be more frequent updates and I'm not jinxing myself! Thanks again, love y'all <3


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from the dead once again! Bad joke, I know. I'm currently sitting in my bed after having been exposed to the coronavirus for the 3rd time so far at work, but I've been testing negative so maybe I'm invincible??? Knock on wood. My area is still in lockdown but there's an end in sight for my emergency work since reinforcements were finally brought in last week. So this chapter has been written as a celebration of me not getting ill in a pandemic and making it through 70 days of hell lol. 
> 
> On an even more depressing note, we are officially in May 2020, when this fic is set, and we are NOT at a pop-up art show now or anytime in the future. Ugh.
> 
> Anyway....Enjoy!
> 
> ALSO - I read all your comments and love them deeply. Someday soon I hope to have the energy to respond to them the way they should be. it's not u its me

Nini threw her head back and laughed, Kourtney snorting next to her as she explained the disastrous first date she and Ashlyn had gone on. No one else could make ripping your pants while performing in an alternative mime troupe sound as charming.

“That’s love, I guess - when your girl makes a fool of herself in front of half your major and you still want to take her to dinner afterward.”

Kourt and Nini had been filling each other in on their lives from college to the moment they had both stepped into Sebby’s backyard. Kourt was finishing up a Theater Tech degree, graduation slated for June. She was still hoping to get to New York, but hadn’t quite had that talk with Ashlyn yet. Nini privately thought that was concerning, given her graduation was less than a month away, but decided this wasn’t the time nor place to share those thoughts. She hoped she would remember to invite Kourtney to a sleepover, one of the few spaces on earth where clay facemasks and wine could be traded for deep emotional connections and hard truths.

She felt a large, soft hand brush her lower back and leaned into E.J.’s broad figure, staring up at him with a smile. She grabbed his hand and began running her thumb along the veins on the back of his palm, her heart swelling with affection. He was looking particularly handsome this afternoon, and she was drunk on he heady intoxicant of Kourt’s love stories. Also canned rosé.

“E.J., you know Kourtney, right?”

E.J. nodded at her distractedly, “Yeah, hey Kourtney, nice to see you again. Cool that you already meet Nina.”

“Well, actually,” Nini began, “You won’t believe what-“

“Sorry babe, you’re going to have to save it for later. I need us to head out now.”

Nini’s stomach dropped. He had been looking like he was having so much fun, or at least whatever E.J. considered fun, with those men in the garage. She really thought they were going to be able to stay longer than an hour or two.

“What, why? I don’t want to go yet!” Nini was pouting, she knew, but she ached to stay.

“Nina, it’s important,” E.J. implored, “Those guys I was talking to know some angel investors and are meeting with a contact tonight at Charmaine’s. I’m really hoping I can link and build with their team, and I have a really good feeling about this. Plus, the food there is great!”

And insanely expensive, Nini thought. “E.J., you know I can’t afford that. Plus, you haven’t even said hi to your cousin yet!”

E.J. waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll pay for your food, and I see Ash all the time, she doesn’t need to talk to me. Please, Nini? Be my good luck charm?”

Nini steered E.J. a few steps away from Kourtney. She stood on her tip toes and craned her neck up to give him a kiss on his cheek and whisper into his ear, “go without me and I’ll make it up to you later.”

E.J. pulled back, smiling broadly. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Without missing a beat, he turned heel and breezily called over his shoulder, “Say hi to Ash for me!” before disappearing.

Nini let out a soft sigh, shaking her head. She was happy E.J. had found his people, truly, but was so relived she wouldn’t have to sit in a stuffy crowded bar full of young men too rich for their own good. E.J. really lived in a different world than she did.

“KOURTNEY!”

Nini whipped around to see Ashlyn standing next to Ricky by the cherry tree, frantically beckoning to Kourtney. Nini followed a few steps behind, unsure if she was invited but not knowing what to do otherwise. The two were talking about clocks or something, so Nini just observed. Her heart swelled as she watched Kourtney and Ashlyn interacting. She vividly remembered Kourt coming out to her at 3 a.m. one night at camp, whispering so softly that Nini almost had to ask the girl to repeat herself. Nini had been concerned all evening, as her normally loud friend had been subdued and withdrawn. She nearly laughed out of relief when Kourt had come out, but instead thanked her for being so trusting and offered to let Kourtney talk to her moms on the phone the next time they were able to call their parents. She loved that Kourtney had found someone now.

“Nini.” Ricky said.

Nini snapped out of her reverie, belatedly realizing that Kourtney was introducing her to Ricky.

Kourt turned to look back at Nini, surprise written across her face as she raised an eyebrow. “Ni-ni?” she questioned, giving Nini the excuse-me-what face. Nini realized she had just told Kourtney she was going by Nina now in an attempt to grow up and sound more professional. “Interesting,” Kourtney drawled, “I guess you’ve met then.”

“Ricky is my friend, he can call me Nini,” She replied airily, not wanting to acknowledge the fact she was contradicting herself, and steadfastly ignoring that she really didn’t know Ricky well enough to consider him a friend. “I missed Nini anyway. Nina is boring. She works too much.”

Which was true. She had felt compelled to change her name when she moved, to really solidify the fact that she was an adult now, with adult dreams and adult desires and adult bills. But there was also something undeniably alienating about leaving a city and and identity behind at the same time. At first she had felt scrubbed clean, exhilarated at the possibilities of a _tabula rasa_. But lately she had realized that Nini was callused and scarred in a way that acted as an armor. Nina was fresh-skinned, which meant each cut and scrape hurt more.

“Ok, girl, whatever you say.” Kourtney laughed, reaching down to hoist Ashlyn from her seated position at the base of the tree. “Nice to meet you, Ricky.” Ricky remained silent, staring up at the three of them wide-eyed, like Nini had come to expect from the unusually shy boy. 

Ashlyn brushed dirt from her overalls and turned toward Nini. “Nina, where did my bore of a cousin run off to? I haven’t even seen him yet.”

Nini tensed a bit, scrunching her face up when she realized E.J. had really left her with the task of telling his cousin that he had dipped out. Nini knew they were both single children that had grown up together in Marin, and could tell from the “bore” comment that they were probably more like siblings than cousins, so it probably wouldn’t reflect poorly on her. But still, she wanted to make a good impression on Ashlyn, and being on the defensive wasn’t going to help.

“E.J. is not a bore!” She said, hoping it came off playfully and not like chiding. “But, maybe a little aloof, considering he’s already left-” Seeing Ashlyn’s look of outrage, Nini continued before she got a dressing down, “-in order to keep talking about his business plan with some guys he met here! They wanted to take it to a bar in SoMa they said was more conducive to…” she tried to remember the exact phrase he had used, “linking and building.” She finished with air quotes, not wanting the trio before her to think the words were hers, since she didn’t really know what they meant.

Ashlyn looked at her with a mix of incredulity and disgust. Nini glanced and Ricky, whose face mirrored Ashlyn’s, albeit far more subdued. Nini could feel her cheeks heating up and wished the earth would swallow her. She had somehow made an absolute fool of herself in front of these people, and she hadn’t even known what she’d done. She internally cursed E.J. for abandoning her to the wolves.

“Hm.” Ashlyn stated bluntly. “I think I just threw up in my mouth.”

Nini realized that Ashlyn was directing all of her ire at her cousin, but still felt as if she was the one being judged for dating E.J. She felt the need to prove he was a good guy to his own family, which was crazy, but she didn’t want to seem like she wasn’t sticking up for him and thus herself.

“Oh, stop, he’s just passionate, that’s all!” Nini tried to keep her voice light, using her best acting skills to hide how uncomfortable she was. “It’s probably a really good idea!” 

As she said this, Nini’s skin prickled with moisture and goosebumps rose on her arms. Momentarily, she wondered if it was a reaction to defending E.J. She wanted out of this conversation, and perhaps this was her body’s metabolic feedback to the situation, a flight or fight response. It took her glancing across the garden to realize fog had settled.

Relieved at the carrot dangled in front of her, she greedily grasped at the number one small talk conversation topic - the weather. “Well, that’s San Francisco for you!”

She looked at the young man on the ground beneath her, who was staring up at the sky and shivering.

“Hey,” she almost whispered, not wanting to spook the boy who seemed so easily scared. He turned to look at her. “I hear Sebby’s coworker is supposed to be playing an original composition on the balcony soon, and I’m also pretty sure there are blankets up there. You wanna come with?”

Ricky nodded earnestly. “Defin- I mean, um, yeah, sure, that would be great, yeah,” he mumbled. Nini laughed at how eager he was to get warm, and extended a hand to him. He grasped it, and she noticed how nicely his hand fit in hers. She wished E.J.’s hands were smaller. His hands were, uh, great, there’s no denying that, but sometimes when they walked down the street, she felt a bit like she was a child holding her father’s hand. It was not the imagery she wanted when she looked at the man she was dating.

With her help, Ricky scrambled to his feet and stood before her for the first time. He was taller than she had expected, although she supposed she was just shorter than everyone else and should haven gotten used to that by now. A final few petals clung to his curls as he stared down at her. She smiled, unable to help herself. He was cute, plain and simple. No need to deny something that was obvious to anyone with eyes. Despite how truly awkward he seemed, Ricky had a kind of magnetism that drew Nini towards him. She wanted to get past his deer-like flightiness and figure out what made him tick. It was a challenge, and Nini loved a challenge. 

She shivered slightly and decided it was high time to get under some blankets. Nini turned toward Kourtney and grabbed the girl’s left elbow, linking up like their grade-school days. In her most serious voice, she intoned, “Shall we head up to the balcony?” She hoped the obviously overwrought austerity of her question would lighten the mood and distract from the fact the E.J. had left her to get to know his cousin without a buffer. Ashlyn seemed like the type of person who would respond well to drama.

As if on cue, Ashlyn linked her right arm through Nini’s left, creating a three-person chain. “I think we shall.” Ashyln’s voice was deep and severe, and Nini knew from then on they would get along great.

The girls giggled as they attempted to climb the stairs together, getting about a third of the way up before needing to break apart to let some slightly disgruntled other party-goers down. They piled onto the balcony. It was longer than it was wide, taking up most of the side of the house. On one side, a sliding glass door lead into the kitchen, although the majority of that wall was the same bright white siding as the rest of house. A section of the house jutted out behind the right of balcony, so the only railing was the one parallel to the main portion of the house. The balcony felt like a well-played game of Tetris, the long straight piece fitted snugly into the L shaped one. The railing to the balcony was topped with planter boxes filled with pea sprouts reaching their tendrils up strips of twine attached to the overhang of the roof. Mismatched chairs and benches strewn with blankets and pillows lined the sides of the balcony, creating a small walkway in the middle that lead to an electric piano pushed up against the wall. It felt like a picture Nini would have seen scrolling through VSCO, not something she was currently living.

Nini sighed happily and plopped herself down on an available bench, Ashlyn and Kourtney taking the loveseat to the left of her. There were other guests in the space and more moseying out from the kitchen as a black-haired man (Nini assumed this must be the aforementioned coworker) quietly practiced some scales. She wanted to make sure Ricky got a seat and a blanket, and turned to offer him the seat next to her when she realized he wasn’t there. Sweeping her eyes along the garden, she spotted Ricky with his best friend. They locked eyes and she lifted the blanket excitedly, patting the seat next to her and yelling “For you!” in an exaggerated stage whisper that he definitely couldn’t hear from the yard below. He smiled in acknowledgement and turned back towards his friend. Nini twisted around and stuck her legs up on the bench so she could save the seat.

“So, Nini…” Ashlyn began, “What’s it like being my cousin’s girlfriend?”

Nini blanched, alarmed.

“E.J. called me his girlfriend!?” She hissed before she could stop herself. _Whoops._

Ashlyn raised her hands in the air, palms forward in a placating manner. “Woah no, no, no, those were my words, not his! Sorry, I just assumed.”

There was no way Nini could really play off her reaction, so she just went with honesty. “We haven’t had that conversation yet, I guess. It’s only been a couple of months, and I don’t have a ton of time off to date, y’know?” She twisted her hands uncomfortably.

Ashlyn opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Kourtney’s firm and bright, “We totally get it, Nini, no need to explain! We’re all adults here, we can have adult relationships. How did you meet?”

Nini explained how E.J. had charmed her at her boutique job, which Kourtney ooh’d as a “meet-cute.” Ashlyn seemed unimpressed, but Nini supposed that it would be weird for Ashlyn to gush over her own cousin, so it didn’t bother her.

“E.J. has been great for me here. He treats me really well, and I like him, so…” she finished, not really knowing how she was supposed to talk about him to Ashlyn.

Ashlyn looked at Nini for a moment. “Well, it’s not often he lets family meet the people he’s dating, let alone leaves us with them, so he clearly cares about you. Us Caswells are a little intense, so-“

Whatever she was going to say next was drowned out by a loud snort from Kourtney, the curly haired woman trying and failing to contain her laughter. “A little intense? Girl, if there was an intensity Olympics you’d be Simone Biles.”

Ashlyn clasped her hands in front of her face as if deep in thought. She then looked up and locked eyes with Kourtney. “That is the nicest thing you have ever said to me. Marry me.” And Kourtney devolved into giggles once again.

Nini smiled softly at the pair. She really liked E.J. and was excited to see the possibilities in their relationship, but she couldn’t deny that what they had wasn’t the same as the young women in front of her. She had only just met Ashlyn and could see how in love she was with Kourtney, and vice versa. Maybe it was something that came in time?

Over all the years she had been a conscious consumer of romantic lore, Nini had heard people describe lust as a spark, kisses as fireworks, love as a burning sensation skittering across skin. She had never experienced that personally, which seemed like a distinct missing piece of her maturation. Her relationships had been more akin to scented candles, comforting and familiar but not necessarily something that heated her from the inside out. She guessed she was more of a slow burn kind of person, and her candle would eventually light a cozy hearth fire to keep her warm long-term. Still, she couldn’t deny that she was jealous watching Kourt and Ashlyn interact.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nini noticed Ricky walking up the stairs and waved him over. “Ricky, I saved you a seat!” She swung her legs off the bench, patting the space next to her. In return, Ricky looked down and scuffed his feet. 

“Thank you, that’s really kind. Uh, I think I’m going to head inside and use the restroom, and get some water? If you want some? I’ll come back after?”

He posed his statements as questions, Nini noticed, the classic sign of self-consciousness. She wished she could alleviate some of that discomfort for the boy.

“Yeah, Ricky, that would be great. Thank you.”

She tried to speak as softly and warmly as she could, smiling like she would at a student in her after-school program who was nervous to get up on stage. She worried about coming off as patronizing, but he smiled back gratefully as he left. 

She swung rotated her feet back up on the bench to continue saving his seat and looked up straight into Ashlyn’s penetrating stare. It was unnerving how exposed Nini felt in that moment, and she blushed despite herself.

Ashlyn cocked her head in the direction of the door Ricky had disappeared into. “What do you think of Ricky?” 

“He seems really sweet, but so shy! I feel like if I say anything too loudly I’ll scare him off.” 

The auburn-haired girl nodded slowly. “I saw the portrait you drew of him. It was special.”

“Oh, that? It was nothing, really. I’m sure he gets stuff like that all the time.” Nini laughed lightly, “With those curls you could mistake him for a Grecian cherub. He’s like the Platonic ideal of a muse.” The alcohol was playing fast and loose with Nini’s tongue. Had she been sober, she may have worded it differently, but Ashlyn and Kourtney were theater girls who had gone to an all-female liberal arts school. If anyone could understand the allure of a muse, it would be them.

“Plato is boring and his theories are stupid. His cave metaphor was wack.” Kourtney checked her nails as she said this, blowing off invisible specks of dust.

Ashlyn side-eyed her. “Kourt, just because a Phil major ghosted you Freshman year doesn’t mean you get to say the most famous philosopher of all time is stupid.”

Kourt sniffed. “Bet.”

Leaning her right shoulder on the side of the house, Nini sighed. “So not the point, you guys. I’m just saying the portrait was nothing special. I just took advantage of an opportunity no one else jumped on.”

Kourtney leveled her gaze at Nini, but whatever she may have said died on her tongue as she looked behind Nini. Dropping her head so she was looking directly behind her, Nini saw an upside-down Ricky with two glass cups filled with water. Nini shifted her head and swiveled her body in one fluid motion, making room for Ricky on the bench. He sat down cautiously next to her and handed her the glass, condensation beading and running down her arm as she grabbed the water. Feeling chilled by the sensation, she curled the blanket around her further.

“Oh!” Nini slapped her forehead with her free hand. “Ricky, I’m so sorry, this blanket was meant for the both of us!”

“Oh, uh, that’s ok, I’m not-“ Ricky started, but was cut off by Nini flinging half of the thick wool fabric onto his lap.

“If we scoot in I think we can both fit with room to spare!” Nini wiggled closer to the boy, stopping millimeters away from being flush with his skin when she remembered herself. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask, are you comfortable with me touching you? It’s ok if you’re not, I can try to find another blanket.”

“It’s okay,” the boy nearly whispered.

Unsatisfied with his unenthusiastic response, Nini ducked her head down to catch his eyes, forcing their gazes to meet. “Ricky. Do you want your own blanket?”

He cleared his throat. “No,” he replied, a bit louder and clearer, “this is great. Thank you for sharing.”

Content, Nini closed the gap so they were sitting nearly flush to each other, the blanket wrapped warmly over their two laps. “Great, cause I really didn’t want to go find another one.” Ricky let out a small noise, halfway between a laugh and a snort. It was the most Nini had gotten out of him all afternoon, so it felt like a win. 

“Uh, hey everyone,” a gruff voice called out, and Nini angled her body toward the piano, where the man who had been practicing scales was faced toward the assembled crowd. “I’m Avery, and I’m going to play something I wrote. It’s called ‘Muni Is Late’”

The crowd giggled, knowing all too well the feeling of waiting for a bus or train that never came. The man took a deep breath and placed his fingers on the keys. 

Nini had expected a parody song, something light and silly. What she hadn’t expected was an experimental jazz piece. The man danced up and down the keys, dissonant chords almost resolving before veering off again, time signatures changing at a whim. The song was deeply frustrating and quickened her heartbeat in annoyance, which is exactly what a late train felt like. Nini was impressed. 

She glanced at Kourtney and Ashlyn, the latter flinching at every particularly upsetting measure. It was hilarious. She hoped someone was filming the audience reactions for Avery, since they were all variations of Ashlyn. One person caught her eye on particular, though. 

Ricky was rapt. His eyes reminded her of the time her moms had let her buy fireworks when they visited Mama C’s cousin in Montana. She had seen fireworks on the 4th and New Years while growing up in Denver, but nothing had prepared her for what it felt like to set them off herself. Ricky watched Avery’s hands the way Nini had watched the sparklers. 

Abruptly, Avery stopped playing, ending the piece on a deliciously resolved chord. Nini cheered loudly, along with the rest of the motley crowd on the balcony and most of the people from the garden below. 

Avery turned around, bowing with a little flourish. “Thanks, y’all. Hope I didn’t raise your blood pressure too much. I’m gonna play some elevator music now, so feel free to talk or whatever.” He turned back around. 

Ashlyn glowered. “I fucking hate late trains.”

Kourtney laughed and stood up, pulling Ashlyn with her. “Okay, babe, let’s take a lap or two before you snap at that nice man. We’ll see you in a bit, Nini.” The two left the balcony. 

Nini tried to turn her head to face Ricky, but stopped once she realized she was a little too close to him to talk normally. But, he was warm and she knew if she moved even a fraction of her body the fog would breach their little heat pocket. She chose to lean her head back against the siding, so her mouth was closer to his ear than his nose - it seemed the least invasive. She sipped her water and carefully set it down.

“You’re a musician.” She stated matter-of-factly. 

“So are you,” he replied, looking out at the tree. 

She smiled. “How did you know?” 

“Same way you did. You were the only person on the balcony who looked more excited than annoyed. That can only come from understanding _why_ someone is playing the way they are, not just _what_ they’re playing. What do you play?”

Nini let the question sit, surprised Ricky had said so many words to her. This was a topic they could talk about without him stumbling over his thoughts. _Exciting!_

“Oh, piano. But not like that! More pop style stuff. And ukulele, and some guitar but I’m not as good as that. Mostly to accompany myself. You?”

“Piano and guitar. You sing?” he glanced at her, steadily meeting her eyes for the first time that night. 

“Yeah. I cover, but mostly I like writing my own stuff.”

Ricky smiled broadly. “I also write! Actually, I brought my guitar here to sing, but I didn’t realize who - or I mean, uh, how many people would be here. It’s, um... intimidating.” He finished, finally dropping her gaze and shifting to stare back at the tree.

“So is writing a song about municipal transit and playing it for a room of people who have strong opinions about bus wait times. Or asking a stranger if you can draw them. Or making literally any piece of art, hanging it in someone’s garage, and trusting that it won’t be mocked. That’s what this space is for!” Suddenly, a brilliant idea popped into her head.

She threw off the blanket, shocking the both of them as warm wool was replaced with the clamminess of the late afternoon spring air. Nini stood in front of Ricky.

“Let’s sing.”

“Excuse me?” He gawked at the smaller woman.

“You sing, I sing, you have a guitar.” Nini glanced around. “Look, everyone is headed inside. We don’t have to perform like it’s Thanksgiving day and our grandma wants a show or whatever. Let’s just sing. If we suck, no one is going to care. Even if we don’t suck no one is going to care because at this point they’re all in their little bubbles and won’t be paying attention.”

She caught Ricky’s eye, hoping he wouldn’t break her gaze. For once, he didn’t. She could tell he was nervous, so it was a long shot, but she wanted to keep pushing. She briefly thought of the time her high school ex told her she could never let things go, like “a dog with a chew toy.” It was probably something she should unpack in therapy. She made a mental note to download one of those therapist apps. 

“Okay.”

_What?_

“Okay? Really?” 

“Yeah. Let’s go get my guitar.” 

Nini didn’t actually think that was going to work. Ricky stood, gesturing for her to follow him down the stairs into the garden, so she did. She scurried after his long strides and trailed behind him into the gallery room. Pausing at the door as her eyes adjusted to the dim room, she didn’t notice Ricky’s movements until he emerged from a corner of the garage, guitar case in hand. He paused halfway back to the doorway she stood in, his gaze falling on a couple of small pieces strung up along the north-facing wall.

“Those are yours, huh?” He quietly asked. Nini squinted, her BART renderings slowly coming into focus.

“Oh, yeah. I guess you knew because they’re the only other pastel.”

“No,” Ricky stated, “I don’t really know what that means. They have your. Vibe? I guess? I don’t know art words, but they’re great.”

Nini laughed freely, absolutely tickled by the imagery of Ricky in a real gallery or museum, using the word ‘vibe’ in front of stuffy art patrons. “Vibe is perfect, Ricky. And thank you, that’s very kind.”

Risky shifted his guitar in order to get it through the garage door as they started back up the balcony stairs to the promise of warmth. “You’ll have to forgive me. Never have I felt more like a philistine than standing in this room.”

Ricky, making a joke? Nini was thrilled. She wanted to show off her handiwork to Ashlyn and Kourtney, point out the layers of Ricky she had unearthed as proof of her ability to befriend people. Had she stopped to think for a moment, she would have considered how awful that sounded, but she was too wrapped up in her feelings of accomplishment to analyze them. “Okay, the only people who use the word ‘philistine’ are definitely not philistines. Well, either that or you’ve hung around a lot of people who have based their identities off their parents’ ability to buy nice things.”

Ricky’s eyebrows raised as he allowed her to pass him up the stairs. “Oh, yikes. You clocked the private school right out of me. I swear I’ll be paying back loans from the grave, though.”

“You and me both,” Nini replied, holding the kitchen door open for him as they emerged into the bustling space. Seb and Carlos had an open floor plan, naturally, with a sizable industrial kitchen and beautiful hardwood dining table. The room was fairly empty, as the dining chairs had been dragged into the living room down the hall along with nearly all of the remaining party-goers. The shouts from a lively game of charades spilled down the corridor. Perfect.

“Okay, Ricky, this is where we sing.” Nini pointed to the table.

Ricky’s eyes followed her finger, and then traced back up her arm to find her eyes, as if to determine if she was joking.

“On the table?”

“Nope,” She smacked her lips. “Under it.”

Nini dropped to her knees and crawled on all fours to the center of the space beneath the table, plopping down with her legs crossed in front of her like a kindergartner.

Ricky stared at her. He didn’t move.

Nini leveled her gaze back at him. She didn’t move. If he wanted a war of attrition, so be it.

It took approximately 3 seconds for Ricky to give up and crawl under the table with her, dragging his guitar along behind him. Nini congratulated herself on her persuasive abilities.

“So,” he began, unlatching his guitar case, “Is there a reason I’m currently sitting under a strange table in a strange house with a strange girl?”

“Hey! I’m not strange! My moms say I’m unique. Also, Ricky, there is a reason. The reason is it feels like a fort, and it’s always easier to do new things in a fort.”

He _hmm_ ’d, pulling out his guitar and setting it on his lap, absentmindedly tuning it. “And why do you say that?”

She thought for a moment about all the things she had done in forts. The first time she played her ukulele, the first time she wrote a song, her first kiss, opening her admission letter to USC. She played with the small ring on her right index finger, watching it glint in the light. Her mothers had given her this as a graduation present, saying it was small enough to wear to auditions and always know they were there rooting her on.

“‘cause, Ricky, forts are a boundary between our boring real lives and our exciting fictional lives. In a fort, I’m Nina with three jobs, and Nina the theater star, and Nina the mother, and any other version of myself I want to be. And right now I want to be Nini, the singer.”

She glanced up from her hands and for the hundredth time that night, locked eyes with Ricky. For the second time that night, he didn’t look away.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Let’s sing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jsyk, I physically restrained myself from adding a "(AN: c wat i did dere)" a la My Immortal after the slow burn comment. If you're too young to know My Immortal, look it up. I was def too young to read it when I did but my parents had kids in their 50s and were woefully underprepared to raise children in the age of personal devices connected to the internet, so it Shaped Me.


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